


Passion restrained

by Chibiness87



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Handcuffs, NSFW, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, What more do you need?, basically its a smut fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 17:52:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14623953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibiness87/pseuds/Chibiness87
Summary: When passion's a prison, you can't break free.OR: Smut.





	Passion restrained

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: What I should be doing: Writing a 4000 word assignment. What I did instead: This. I’m not sorry.

**Passion restrained** , by **chibiness87**  
**Rating: E**  
**Season/Spoilers** : None.  
**Disclaimer** : Not mine.

 **Summary** : Uh, smut? *Checks.* Yup. That’s about it.

* * *

She’s going to kill him.

Slowly.

Painfully.

Going to make him suffer, make him beg.

God, is she going to make him beg.

Just as soon as she’s free, as soon as she’s out of these restraints. She gives another tug at the cuffs, but they hold as firm as ever. Doing what they’re designed for.

Sort of.

She’s been like this for minutes, hours, days. Time stretching endlessly, each moment a lifetime.

She wishes she could see.

She wishes she could move.

She wishes he would just get on with it, already. God, she needs him to get on with it.

Her muscles are beginning to twitch, and the tension is coiling in her gut again, and she’s so close, so very close, but then he laughs at her and pulls away, and she is left panting. Aching and needy, a sweaty mess on her bedsheets. “Bastard!”

He gives another chuckle, low and full of sex, and Christ, she was so close.

“Patience.”

His voice sounds like honey over gravel, deep and guttural. She wants his mouth on her. She wants his cock in her.

She wants to come.

Fuck, does she want to come.

A heavy weight sits on her clit for a moment, flicks up and over the most sensitive of nerves for an instant, but before she can rub against it, before she can create some kind of real friction, it is gone.

“Mulder.”

Her body feels like a coiled spring. Nipples tight and aching, still tender from the hours days weeks he spent lavishing them with his tongue. His teeth. He blows across one now, making her jump. Making her gasp. Making her twitch and ache, and she’s certain these sheets will need to be destroyed after this.

A nudge to her knees presses them fully open again, baring her to his gaze. She feels the rasp of his tongue against the wetness seeping from her in a constant flow, and she moans. A whisper of air across her pulsing clit again, and then an insistent buzz meets her ears, and the sound alone almost makes her come.

Head thrashing from side to side now, desperation thrumming through her veins, she can’t even image what he thinks of her like this.

The first brush of the toy is against her outer lips, and she squirms at the sensation. Surely, surely now he’ll give her what she wants. What she needs. But he hasn’t finished torturing her yet, and instead of moving down he’s moving it north, up over her twitching stomach. Her aching nipples. Down to tease the sensitive spot he found quite by accident, right behind her left knee for a second, before pulling it away.

The darkness over her eyes is suddenly gone; the tie he used as a blindfold pushed up and over her head, and she blinks owlishly at him. His gaze is dark, heat and lust clouding his eyes, making her feel warm. Adored.

Loved.

He makes her feel so loved, even when they are like this.

Especially when they are like this.

“Look at me.”

She feels drunk. Drugged. Swimming in molasses, desire and heat palpable between them. With effort, she keeps her eyes open, meets his gaze with her own.

He sucks in a breath, and despite how completely lost she is, it still gives her a tiny shiver. She made him look like that. _Her_.

Her focus is brought back to the humming toy in his hand when he brushes it over the crease where thigh meets torso. Just a couple more inches over. That’s all she needs.

Her hips buck without permission, chasing the vibrations.

“I know where you want this,” he says, running the tip of the vibe across her other hip now. “But you have to keep your eyes open. You have to keep looking at me.”

She nods frantically, gasping, words beyond her now. Anything. She’ll do anything, just as long as he lets her come.

Christ, please, let her come.

His hand shifts, pressing against her clit now, and the vibrations are so intense, so suddenly there, right fucking there, that her eyes fall close on instinct.

Instantly, he stops, and her eyes fly open again.

“What did I just tell you?” There’s a token of disappointment in his voice. In his gaze. He pulls the toy away from her. Switches it off.

She wants to cry.

“Guess you didn’t want that after all.”

“No! Please…”

The handcuffs rattle against the headboard again. She’s going to end up with marks on her wrists if she’s not careful.

“What was that, Scully?”

Her hands fist in the cuffs, her body straining up towards him. She’s begging now, and she officially doesn’t care. “Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

And then it’s not the toy but his mouth which descends on her, but it doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter in the slightest, because his tongue is lapping, and his lips are sucking, and then one, two fingers are inside her, pressing against that spot that makes her keen, makes her blind, and the tension that has been building and building finally breaks, and her orgasm washes over her.

Faintly, she hears praise her, words like _beautiful_ , and _magnificent_ , but she’s too lost to respond.

She wades up from the depths of her release to find him gently soothing her. Hands stroking over her belly, her arms. There’s a quiet _click_ , and then her wrists are free, and she feels him tenderly brush his lips over the red bracelets already forming.

“You OK?”

She hums. Nods. Pulls him closer. Rolls them so she is on top.

Slides his arms up.

A faint click is the only warning she gives him, and his eyes widen in apparent surprise. Spotting the silk tie on the bed, she slowly, carefully wraps her hand in it, the softness a contrast to her skin and his.

Carefully, she lowers herself to lie where she can comfortably reach his cock, blushing a deep purple, already seeping at the tip. With her hand covered in silk, she runs her palm up the length of him once, keeping her touch gentle.

He bucks his hip in reply, a moan in his voice and a gasp on his lips.

Yes. This will do quite nicely.

Eyes full of mischief, she grins.

“I’m doing just fine.”

* * *

End

Thoughts?


End file.
